The Jewish Dog (2 page)

The fleas helped me mark an important distinction – the body is divided in two
:
the places you can reach with your teeth and tongue
,
and the rest of your body
.
When the fleas roam the areas beyond the reach of my tongue
,
I lose my mind.

A more pungent odor than that of disgust is the odor of termination
.
Through my shut eyelids
,
I first encountered death
.
One of my brothers
,
a nameless pup
,
didn't have enough strength to make his way to Mother's milk
.
As we raced to her teats
,
my siblings and I disregarded any fraternal considerations
.
The weaker brother was left behind
.
As he lost strength
,
his chances of gaining his daily portion diminished
.
His fate was sealed
.
Mother stopped feeding and licking him
.
I realized that the improvement in my own condition was a direct result of my brother's misfortune
,
but I was amazed at how easy it is to bear the suffering of another when extra milk
,
extra space at my mother's side
,
and extra quality time under her tongue are blinding your conscience.

“Mama
,
look,” said Joshua
.
“I think one of the puppies is sick.”

Joshua's father came and lifted my brother
.
“Yes,” he said
.
“He looks very weak
,
and his nose is completely dry.”

“Oh no,” Joshua said
.
“Look
.
His head is dropping. . . .”

Kalman did not respond.

That scent was seared into my mind forever
.
The scent of death.

After the evening feeding
,
we curled up
,
exhausted
,
deep inside my mother's thick fur to sleep
.
In the still of the night
,
I had my first dream
:
huge teats filled with milk just for me
,
no struggle required
.
The sounds of the passing day also resurfaced in my mind
.
It was during sleep that the slurred sounds were formed into an initial understanding.

During the first weeks
,
I heard Reizel
,
Joshua
,
and Herschel's mother
,
Shoshana
,
repeat to them
,
“Don't give them names
!
If you give them names
,
you'll become emotionally attached and it'll be ten times harder to give them away.”

The matter of giving names contributed to my gut feeling that humans and dogs were separate beings
.
It was hard for me to understand the deep human compulsion to name every object and creature.

Even Matilda
,
whom I eventually identified as the housekeeper
,
was asked not to name us
.
Despite my temporary blindness
,
I could tell that Matilda had a different and disorienting scent
.
The fundamental rule that every living being has a scent
,
either of “belonging” or “not belonging,” didn't apply in her case
.
She gave off a surprising blend of both.

At this point
,
the children gave me and my siblings temporary nicknames that weren't considered real
,
official names
.
My eldest brother was called “the biggest.” I was “the white one with the black circle around his eye and brown patch on his chest.” We shared our cushion with “the female,” “the cross-eyed one,” and “the one with the crooked tail.”

Without a proper name or the ability to see
,
my imagination was somewhat poor
.
The fact that I received the name “the white one with the black circle around his eye and brown patch on his chest” didn't contribute to my sense of self
.
Who am I? With no name or image
,
who can guarantee that I truly exist? Who can guarantee that I am not just a figure in another dog's dream?

In my distress
,
I did what any other reasonable dog would do – I barked.

I bark
,
therefore I am.

CHAPTER 2

A
nd then I opened my eyes.

The first thing I saw was my mother
.
Things were coming together
:
the teats of milk
,
the sniffing snout
,
and the moist tongue
.
Everything was set in place
,
exactly as I had pictured it
.
But it wasn't just that
;
I couldn't look away
.
I stared at her
,
mesmerized
.
Mother was beautiful
.
Her looks made a deep impression on me
:
a magnificent tail
,
speckled fur
,
broad shoulders
,
and paws large and stable.

The rest of the world – which at this point amounted to the living room of the Gottlieb house – also suddenly took shape
.
From east to west
,
from north to south
,
and up and down – all was ruled by the Gottliebs
.
At the time
,
the Gottliebs seemed to me – an innocent puppy who barely reached their ankles – like giants
,
able to stand on their hind legs by the grace of some divine power
.
Their ability to stand for such a long time without leaning on their front legs reinforced my hypothesis that dogs and men were inherently different
,
and did not only differ in the density of their fur.

In retrospect
,
I believe the Gottliebs also knew very early on that I was different from my siblings
.
Our playing habits revealed that immediately
.
My brothers would play to the point of exhaustion
.
I would act in a more thoughtful and reserved manner
.
At the end of play time
,
my siblings would collapse
,
exhausted
,
and while away their days sleeping
.
I wasn't like that
.
I preferred pondering to playing
.
My brothers played like there was no tomorrow
,
suckled beyond their capacity
,
and slept endlessly
.
I played only to appease my mother
.
Mostly
,
I would sit in a corner and muse.

The subject of my brooding was usually the human being
.
Listening to their speech and watching their actions gave me new insights every day
.
I scrutinized every movement made by a Gottlieb and examined their body language
:
a nod of the head
,
a wrinkling of the eyebrows
,
every flutter
,
subtle as it may be.

The Gottlieb children enjoyed lifting me up and shaking me in front of their faces
,
squishing me affectionately
,
and murmuring sweet nothings
.
Frankly
,
I didn't enjoy being lifted
,
and it usually made me need to pee
.
However
,
being held with my nose just an inch from the children's gave me a great opportunity to observe their faces from licking distance
.
Their sparse fur was distributed illogically
,
most of it placed at the top of their heads
.
How odd these creatures were
.
Their noses were but a tiny pyramid
,
barely protruding
,
and their mouths just a horizontal slit
,
dividing their flat elliptical faces
.
Inside their mouths was a short tongue
,
much shorter than my mother's
,
and their teeth were laughably dull
.
Bit by bit
,
these observations bore fruit
.
I was astonished to discover that humans wouldn't hang their tongues out
,
even if they were very hot
.
I learned that the Gottliebs were able to use their front paws to pick fleas and ticks
,
open the pantry
,
place records on the gramophone
,
and attach a leash to a collar.

I didn't only learn about the skills humans possessed
,
but about their limitations as well
.
When there was a knock on the door
,
Shoshana would tell her children
:
“Go see who it is and what they want!” Were they unable to smell the identity of the man standing outside? Is it possible that their tiny noses were so useless?

There was one instance that proved to me
,
once and for all
,
that the human sense of smell was very limited indeed
.
Herschel and Joshua were in a mischievous mood and asked Reizel if she felt like eating a piece of apple strudel
.
Reizel responded enthusiastically
,
and was quick to sink her teeth into the pastry they handed her
.
Two bites were enough
.
Revolted
,
she spit out what she had already chewed
.
“You're disgusting!” she shouted
,
chasing her brothers into the courtyard
.
“Disgusting
!
Disgusting
!
Disgusting
!
I hate you and I hate potato knish!”

“You're so gullible!” The brothers burst out laughing at their sister's frustration
,
while I stayed in the kitchen wondering how she could have made such a mistake and devoured the remains of the counterfeit pastry.

Word by word and phrase by phrase
,
my vocabulary grew
.
I learned that “leash” and “key” were often said before taking me out
.
Putting on a coat
,
tying shoelaces
,
turning the key
,
and picking up the leash were clear indicators of a walk
.
The walks took place in the realm called “outside,” which is the opposite of “inside.” There was a huge wall separating the two
,
and they were as different from one another as hot and cold
.
Inside
,
urinating was strictly forbidden
.
Outside
,
it was not only allowed
,
it was commended
.
Each time I emptied my bladder outside
,
I was showered with words of encouragement and praise
.
I couldn't understand how Kalman could be so impressed and excited about an outdoor urination when he completed impossible feats every day.

One such miraculous feat was lighting cigarettes
.
Kalman masterfully controlled the smoke rings coming out of his mouth
.
To myself
,
I called Kalman “woooof woof woof woof woooof,” meaning “master of fire.” Another interesting observation I made about the difference between me and my brothers and the humans was our social habits
:
we would play all day
,
and as the sun came down
,
we'd huddle together for a warm and cuddly night's sleep
.
The humans did the exact opposite
.
During the day
,
the family would often sit together
,
but at night
,
Kalman and his wife would go into an alcove meant exclusively for them
,
and the children went each to his or her own separate cranny.

In order to enter the living chambers
,
a complex action of turning a doorknob was required
.
Such an action was far beyond the scope of my motor skills
.
At a very young age I developed feelings of hostility toward doors
.
Windows
,
however
,
were a different story
.
I was a huge fan
.
I especially liked the window in the guest room
,
which had a fantastic view of the street
.
I discovered it just a few days after opening my eyes
,
and since then
,
not a day went by that I didn't watch the hustle and bustle of the world right below my snout for a couple of hours at least
.
The peacefulness of the hours I spent observing was disturbed only by the angry barks coming from the opposite side of the street
.
In a window of a grey brick building across the way
,
there was a large dog
.
He'd bark at me often
,
his jaws open wide
.
His head was massive and black
,
and his droopy ears would bounce as a warning signal with every bark
.
Sometimes my mother would hurry to the window and respond with her own salvo of barks.

I believe that
,
for a canine
,
I was blessed with extraordinary sight
.
Though my world was mostly comprised of sounds and smells
,
I was also able to enjoy the visual
.
I was especially fascinated with the creatures traveling the roads at amazing speeds
,
clattering by
.
They never had to stop to relieve themselves.

“Why doesn't the white one with the black circle around his eye and brown patch on his chest ever stop barking at the automobiles?” Reizel asked her mother.

“I have no idea,” Shoshana responded
.
“Ask your father.”

“Father
,
why doesn't the white one with the black circle around his eye and brown patch on his chest ever stop barking at the automobiles?”

“Maybe he has strong sheepdog instincts,” Kalman observed
.
“Maybe he thinks they're cows
,
trying to escape the herd.”

Though yours truly couldn't understand a fraction of Kalman's learned answer
,
I could sense with some satisfaction that the Gottliebs were as curious about me as I was about them
.
At the end of the day
,
whether my barks could be scientifically explained or not
,
I stuck to my habit of barking at the cars
,
and I wouldn't withhold barks from horses either
,
as they trotted below the window
.
Not one of them heeded my barks.

I spent most of my spare time with my siblings and mother on the living room carpet
.
As I mentioned already
,
I was endowed with exceptional curiosity
,
and the décor in the room caught my attention
.
The bureau in the corner of the living room held pictures of the Gottliebs' ancestors
.
Shoshana liked to point them out to every new acquaintance that paid a visit
.
“Rabbi Meir Israel Lieb Gottlieb
,
Kalman's father,” she would say
,
pointing at the thick frame
.
Rabbi Meir Israel Lieb Gottlieb's likeness had an owl-like gaze
,
a white beard
,
and ears like a pampered poodle
.
I think I recognized a certain resemblance between the face in the frame and Kalman
.
“And this is his wife
,
Bubbe Sarah Leah
,
may she rest in peace.” Grandma Sarah Leah's eyes were as sad as a pup with a biscuit held just out of reach.

Of course
,
at that point I was unable to conjure up a family tree in my mind
.
Not of my adoptive family nor of my biological family
.
The Gottliebs were often asked by neighbors about my mother's breed
.
“She's a Caucasian shepherd,” the Gottliebs responded
,
not without a hint of pride
.
“Her pedigree is documented seven generations back.”